


The Snatcher's Secret

by PaleandBroodingsGirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 20:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19797490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaleandBroodingsGirl/pseuds/PaleandBroodingsGirl
Summary: Albus Potter is determined to learn the secrets of The Snatcher, a Hogwarts ghost.





	The Snatcher's Secret

The Howgarts ghost known as ‘The Snatcher’ had enthralled Albus Potter since Albus’ first night at Hogwarts. The Snatcher, sporting a buttoned, military-style vest, a scarf, and fold-top boots, reminded Albus of a pirate. Had the ghost’s translucent clothing been marked with skull and crossbones, Albus would not have been surprised. The Snatcher was uncouth, mischievous, and smarmy, further bolstering his likeness to a pirate. Albus’ Aunt Hermione still had nightmares about him.

The Snatcher seemed to despise every one, but nobody bore the brunt of his ire and heckling more than Scorpius Malfoy. Albus couldn’t understand why. Scorpius (polite and unassuming wizard that he was) never gave the ghost cause for retribution. The ghost had been allied with Scorpius’ family in the War, and, according to Mr. Malfoy, no hostility, unpaid debt, or triviality had existed between the Malfoys and the ghost’s family, the Scabiors.

It was illogical, and that piqued Albus’ curiosity as much as the ghost’s rogue persona did. Researching the War, the Scabior Family, and former Slytherin House students, and interviewing Hogwarts professors about the life of the former Snatcher led only to ‘dead ends’ (Albus was quite chuffed at his pun). He’d very much hoped to discover a fantastic story about the ghost, but, after five years of questing, he reluctantly resigned himself to unsatisfied curiosity.

Just a few months later, Professor Anthony Goldstein began a lesson on Draught of the Living Death—a lesson in which the professor warned: “Do not speak of this potion outside of this room— _especially_ not while in the presence of The Snatcher. That scallywag has sabotaged brews of this potion for two decades.”

That was all it took for Albus’ interest in the enigmatic ‘Scabior the Snatcher’ to rekindle. As soon as every student’s Draughts had been brewed and graded, Albus went straight to the ghost.

“What do you have against Draught of the Living Death?”

“An’ why should I tell you, Pott Tott?” the ghost asked contemptuously.

The ghost’s horrendous nickname for him didn’t deter Albus at all; he was well prepared for the ghost’s egotism and nastiness. “Because if you tell me and answer my other questions, I’ll help you pass on to the next life.”

It was a gamble on Albus’ part—perhaps The Snatcher didn’t want to pass on—but he followed his instincts, which told him that no ghost (a mere imprint of a person, a fraction of a soul, and an entity unable to experience physical pleasure, attain closure, and rest in peace) would choose to remain as such.

The ghost apparently shared Albus’ sentiments, as he agreed to Albus’ offer.

“My given name’s Albus. And yours?”

“Whatever you want it to be. Next question.”

Clearly, Albus had his work cut out for him.

“Your issue with Draught of the Living Death?” the green-eyed boy asked.

“Tha’s wha’ go’ me killed!” Scabior angrily replied.

“I’ve always heard that you died in the bridge explosion.”

“I did,” Scabior said irritably, “but only ‘cuz of that bloody Livin’ Death and a vow was I even on the bridge—even at ‘ogwarts.”

“You didn’t intend to fight in the Battle of Hogwarts?” Albus asked.

“No!” scoffed the ghost. “I ‘ad planned to be far from Britain by then with my galleons from the rich ponce.”

_Cor! A vow and galleons—a pirate story!_ Albus thought, scooting forward to the edge of his seat. “So, you weren’t at Hogwarts for Voldemort; you were there to earn money from a rich bloke?”

Scabior nodded. “Would ‘ave got five thousand galleons. Died before I snatched the girl, though,” he said with a sigh.

“A girl? Why did you have to snatch her at the Battle?”

The ghost expelled an overdramatic sigh before continuing, inspecting his nails as he did so. The sight almost made Albus laugh; The Snatcher had been quite the character, he realized.

“Should ‘ave already snatched her,” mumbled the ghost, as if embarrassed by his failure. “I snatched ‘er, before the battle, an’ took ‘er to the ponce, but…I didn’t drug ‘er. I ‘ad to drug ‘er with the Livin’ Death first.”

Hesitant to hear more about a drugged girl being delivered to anyone, Albus tentatively said, “Why?”

The Snatcher must have sensed his hesitation, Albus surmised, because he grinned lewdly. “No, wasn’t like that. The poncey boy wanted to fake ‘er death with the draught an’ ‘ide ‘er away.”

_Finally, a thrilling tale!_

“Why hide her?”

“Wasn’t safe for ‘er. She was a Muggleborn.”

“Why didn’t this ‘ponce’ just find the girl himself?”

A boisterous chortle escaped the ghost. “‘E wouldn’t ‘ave found ‘er, even if ‘e 'ad tried, that one! Pampered li’l prat, ‘e was. Besides, ‘e was in school, not exactly able to go gallivantin’ around like I was.”

“Did the girl survive?”

“Aye. She ‘ad others lookin’ out for ‘er, too, an’ when your da’ killed Voldemort, she was safe again.”

“Who?” Albus asked, quite desperately.

“Yer da’ an’ the lovely Miss Granger-Weasley’s da’. She’s a beauty, that one…jus’ like ‘er mum,” the ghost replied (a bit too lewdly for Albus’ liking), wiggling his eyebrows.

Albus grimaced involuntarily. His Cousin Rose and his Aunt Hermione (who was still his aunt, even though she wasn’t married to his Uncle Ron anymore) were attractive, he knew, but hearing the ghost express his _appreciation_ for them was just… _disturbing_.

“Anyway,” Albus drawled. “Who was _the_ _girl_?’

“Potter’s Mudblood.”

_Aunt Hermione!?_

“And the ‘ponce’?”

The Snatcher’s expression darkened. “Draco Malfoy.”

_Mr. Malfoy? Scorp’s dad?_ Albus was gobsmacked. “That’s why you hate Scorpius!” he exclaimed.

Scabior glowered at him in response.

After a few contemplative seconds, Albus said with a smirk, “Let’s set about getting you to pass on, shall we? You just need to fulfill your vow. Luckily for you, I can brew Draught of the Living Death—and the antidote—and I have an ‘in’ with the girl and the ‘ponce’.”


End file.
